


Master of Herbs

by SGALOVER



Series: Baked Multiverse [7]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Jaskier is a giggler, Slightly crack...maybe?, Use of Cannabis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23636389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SGALOVER/pseuds/SGALOVER
Summary: Being a Witcher required a lot of special skills.  Fighting, tracking, haggling, and of course an extensive knowledge of herbs and their uses.  Sometimes the use was medicine.  Other times it was potions.  But rarely was there any joy to be had with their use.  At least, not a joy that Witchers were encouraged to engage in.
Series: Baked Multiverse [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/412714
Kudos: 27





	Master of Herbs

**Author's Note:**

> It takes place when Jaskier is about 25.  
> Basically I got stoned and wrote this. I hope you all like it.

Being a Witcher required a lot of special skills. Fighting, tracking, haggling, and of course an extensive knowledge of herbs and their uses. Sometimes the use was medicine. Other times it was potions. But rarely was there any joy to be had with their use. At least, not a joy that Witchers were encouraged to engage in. Geralt had experienced a few of those herbs involuntarily through various means. Usually the result was horrible hallucinations and a headache. Because of that he tended to heed the advice given to him all those years ago by older Witchers. Even with all that in mind Geralt didn't really know what to say when he returned to camp with a deer and smelled something he’d only ever scented at certain Herbalists. Jaskier was lazing on top of a large, flat stone that was placed just under a clearing in the treetops. The Bard’s legs were splayed out, one arm extended behind to hold the man up in a slightly leaned back position. His other hand was occupied with a long stemmed wooden smoking pipe. Odd, that must have been a recent buy. Geralt can’t remember seeing it before. The Witcher watches as Jaskier exhales a cloud of dense smoke that quickly joins the blacker stuff coming from the campfire. He nearly flinched when Jaskier addressed him without taking his gaze from the smoke swirling in the tree branches, “Find anything good?”

Geralt paused for only a minute then grunted out a quick, “Deer.” before fully entering the camp. He drops his catch near the fire and looks back over at Jaskier. The Bard still hasn't moved. His eyes look a bit too bright as they follow new patterns of smoke. Geralt notices that Jaskier’s lute and songbook are propped up on the other side of the rock. There is even a freshly clipped quill waiting in the grass next to a small pot of ink. Odd. Geralt remembered Jaskier complaining for the last five days about how his brain was empty of ideas.

Jaskier gives a heavy but short cough and laughs, “Oh, this is perfect.” his laughter turns to soft giggles as he reaches for his lute. When the pipe is put down a small bit of ash falls out. A fresh wave of smell tickles Geralt’s nose. The smell of the burning herb is slightly different than the dried stuff in the shops. Something about it makes him shiver. He’s brought back to himself when Jaskier strums a few notes, “Yes.” the Bard mutters as he starts to hum.

Geralt shakes himself and focuses back on the deer in front of him. If they wanted to eat tonight he would have to get started. For the next little while things could almost be called normal. Jaskier strumming on his lute, Geralt skinning their dinner, and the sound of Roach munching on a bush not too far away as the sun starts to fully set. The major difference was that Geralt kept catching whiffs of that smell. It got worse when Jaskier used a long stick to get a flame to relight the pipe after completing a few bars of his new ballad. By the time Geralt started cutting into the meat his hands were shaking slightly. 

Jaskier giggled and coughed for a moment before addressing the Witcher, “Geralt, you know what I just realized?” Geralt looks up to see Jaskier has crossed his legs and is now leaning over them like an excited child while clutching his ankles. His eyes are red as strawberries around the usual blue. Despite the tired look there is a clear sparkle present. Gearlt can’t think of anything to say so he just grunts to acknowledge that he’s paying attention, “I never asked you your Name Day.” Jaskier’s smile is so bright it nearly outshines the campfire, “You have to tell me so we can celebrate when it comes. Unless it comes in Winter.” the smile fades into a pout between one blink and the next, “I suppose if that’s the case I could always give you a gift when we part.”

“No. I remember what gift means to you.” Geralt really does. And he also knows that Jaskier loves Name Days. The Bard had had his only a month prior. Geralt had awkwardly asked if Jaskier wanted anything, as he understood the usual custom to be. The result had been a wild night of booze and whores that concluded in the pair of them running off clutching their trousers and being shot at by archers.

Jaskier howled with laughter again, his mood shifting swiftly, “Ah, but that was a gift for me Gerelt. A gift for you would be much different. After all, the gift must fit the person it’s going to!” He struck a dramatic pose before he giggled and dropped his arms to his sides. Jaskier looked up through the hole in the trees, his eyes once more following the smoke, “What sort of a gift should one get for a Witcher.” as he speaks he brings the burning end of his campfire poker to his pipe and takes a deep inhale. After a moment the thick plumes slowly seep out of the Bard’s mouth like there is a fire burning in his belly. The sight mixed with the now renewed smell of the herb had Geralt’s throat drying out.

“You’ve got a whole year to think about it.” he responded in his distraction

Jaskier gasped, his dreamy look vanishing, “Are you saying we’ve already missed it?”

Geralt realizes there is no way out of this now and sighs, “It was a week before yours.” He doesn't bother to elaborate that what he considered his Name Day is the day Geralt became what he now is. He can’t really remember any other variation, having long lost that part of himself. But there is no reason to tell that to the drugged Bard.

“I am a terrible friend!” Jaskier proclaims dramatically while flopping fully onto his back. For a few seconds Jaskier says nothing and Geralt wonders if the smoke has once more caught his companion under its spell. Then the Bard pops up like he’s been burned and proclaims, “I must give you something now.” in his haste to get up Jaskier seems to forget his feet are crossed and goes tumbling face first into the dirt. Geralt moves to get up and help but Jaskier is already scrambling to his feet and running for his bag.

Geralt sighs and rolls his eyes while returning to the meat. Seemed the symptoms the Elder Witchers spoke of were mostly true. Jaskier had lost his ability to retain focus, not that he’d had much of that skill to start with. And his choice of discussion was very random. He also seemed to be laughing much more freely, though again that wasn't a drastic change. Geralt wondered, as he skewered the strips of meat in his hands, if the thing about becoming a starving beast was also true. As he stuck the skewers in a place where the meat would cook evenly he heard Jaskier heading back. 

“So, I’m not sure if you partake. And it’s fine if you don’t. But it’s really all I have to offer right now.” Jaskier was holding a small pouch from which emanated such a strong smell that Geralt’s nostrils flared. Jaskier seemed to take his reaction as a good sign because his hopeful smile turned a bit more cunning in nature, “Seems you at least know what I’m offering. I figured, being as wise in the way of herbs that you are.” Jaskier’s eyes got that distant look again and he continued in a sort of bliss filled nostalgia, “I remember when I first discovered it in Oxenfurt. Still so young and innocent in the ways of the world. But oh, that changed very soon.” the giggles sounded almost hysterical but it was all pure joy

Geralt eyed the pouch suspiciously, “I don’t think I want any.”

Jaskier stopped giggling and frowned, “Oh.” he lowered his arm, “Is there something about it that you don’t like?” his eyes widened and he moved the pouch swiftly behind his back, “It doesn't hurt you does it? There was that one time when that mage drugged you with mushrooms and you started…”

“I remember.” Geralt interrupted harshly, “And no, it won’t hurt me.” he considers his next words for a moment before saying, “I’m sensitive to it.”

“So you have tried it?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know?” 

“Stories from the Elder Witchers. They said that using Cannabis for anything other than balms could make a Witcher lose his focus. And losing focus gets you killed.”

“Ah, yes, very Witcher type logic. But let me tell you that I never heard a lesson from an Elder that wasn't originally learned through experience.” Jaskier wiggled his eyebrows before hopping over to his things still laid out by the rock, “Where are we right now Geralt. Not the Kingdom, just our surroundings.”

Geralt looked around, “A clearing in a forest next to a meadow.”

“Exactly. And what did you spend most of yesterday doing in this area?” Jaskier asked as he took his dagger from his boot and started to clean out his pipe. The ash once more released that fragrance that had Geralt twitching slightly.

To distract himself Geralt answered, “Killing the Nekkers that infested the area.”

“Also correct.” Jaskier tapped the pipe a few times against the rock to get the last of the ash out, “So that more than likely means that it’s safe here, right?”

“Perhaps.” Geralt watches as Jaskier pulls the pouch open and pops out a small green bit of the dried herb. The look of concentration Jaskier adopts as he pinches the herb into a more powdery consistency so it falls to land in the pipe could be considered comical. Geralt narrows his eyes, “Doesn't mean I’m going to smoke that.”

Jaskier lets out a huff, “I’m not asking you to finish it. Just take a tiny little breath, that’s all.” Jaskier’s smile is so hopeful that Geralt finds a new question forming on his tongue

“Why do you want me to do it?” 

Jaskier’s smile dims for a second before it fully returns, “Well, I’ll admit there are a few reasons. The first one being that it’s something I think you will enjoy. We are friends, despite what you say. I want my friends to be happy. The second reason is that I think you should really know how this stuff affects you. If it does make you sick wouldn't it be better to know? And the third reason is that I’m pretty sure you have a potion that pushes toxins from your system. Honey something? If it truly becomes too much for you you can simply drink that,” Jaskier plops down next to Geralt’s position by the fire. He looks smug, almost like he’s already won.

Geralt rolls his eyes and refocuses on the meat cooking, “Potions aren't for playing with Jaskier.” He sees the Bard warming up for another round of convincing and wonders how long it will go on for. 

\-------------------------------JASKIER------------------------------

Jaskier smiles as he watches his best friend stare up at the moon. Like this, posed in the middle of a meadow with his head tilted toward the night sky, Geralt truly resembles a wolf. For a moment Jaskier wonders if he’ll howl. That makes him giggle, which unfortunately breaks Geralt from his moonstruck haze. Those slightly clouded eyes fix on Jaskier for just a moment before migrating to the cooling meat the Bard has just taken from the fire. The look is one Jaskier recognizes, “Come on then. You’re probably as hungry as me.” he holds up a small sack of dried fruit he’s been saving, “I’ve even got dessert.”

Geralt doesn't run, but it’s a close thing. Jaskier finds it amusing how very puppy like the Witcher has become. If possible the man is even quieter now. All his thought is portrayed through knowing looks and hesitant touches. But something about the herb makes Jaskier able to understand every action. Jaskier jumps slightly when Geralt drops down so close to him that their shoulders touch. The Witcher doesn't hesitate to reach down and pick up a nice piece of roasted venison. The way he bites and tears at it once more makes Jaskier picture a puppy. It’s no wonder those Elders warned the young ones away from Cannabis if it made them all this docile and easy to deal with. Jaskier hums happily to himself as he picks up his own meat and eats it a bit slower. 

Eventually the meat is all gone and Geralt’s eyes are fixed on the bag in Jaskier’s lap. Without needing to be asked Jaskier opens the pouch and removes an apricot. Geralt leans forward and Jaskier gives in to an odd temptation. He throws the fruit at Geralt’s face. With quick Withcer reflexes the other man manages to catch it perfectly in his mouth. Jaskier really does lose it then, falling back to laugh in good humor, “I’m so glad you did this with me.” he manages to get out after he catches his breath. He watches the smoke swirl above him for a few silent moments, “I think you needed it. You seem so calm, at peace. It’s really weird honestly. But I can tell it’s good for you.” something nudges Jaskier’s leg. He’ll take that as agreement, “Maybe we could make this a Name Day tradition for you eh?” he gets up on his elbows to smile at Geralt. The smile morphs into horror, “You brute!” The pouch is empty on the grass. Geralt looks far too pleased with himself as he goes back to the meadow to stare more at the moon, “Fucking Witchers.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you though with a kudos or comment. I hope everyone has a safe and healthy week :)


End file.
